


Atomic

by Beckymonster



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Everybody Lives, M/M, No Magic Cures For Cancer, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 12:47:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1779631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beckymonster/pseuds/Beckymonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been over a year since the end of the Kaiju War.  The Breach is sealed, Chuck Hansen and Stacker Pentecost survived (mostly).  All is well...  except Chuck has a run in with an acolyte of the Kaiju Sisterhood who throws enough of  the power they used for their orgies over him to kill him. </p><p>There is a cure.  He has to have sex.  One issue with that - he's a virgin.  Not to mention that the one guy who's put himself forward to help Chuck out is Raleigh Becket.  The same guy that Chuck has been in love with forever.  </p><p>Needless to say, shenanigans ensue!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Atomic

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks to Riverwoman for patiently listening to me burble on about this story and for beta'ing above and beyond the call of duty. Also for correcting Google Translate too. Needless to say, all remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone. 
> 
> Thanks also to Fadedink for wise advice on dealing with certain issues some might find offensive. I hope I have dealt with them well. 
> 
> This story was written for the 2014 Pacific Rim Mini Bang on Tumblr - my thanks to the mod(s) for organising.

Atomic

However much he fidgeted, Chuck knew that he had two hopes of finding that sweet spot of keeping both his 'modesty' and warmth while wearing a hospital gown. The curtains were drawn around the exam bed with no one within earshot. Still, he had to try.

"Don't know why you bother," Herc Hansen commented as he poked his head around the curtain. "All the nurses have seen it all before,"

"Still doesn't mean that they get to see mine without dinner and dancing beforehand," Chuck grumbled with no heat to his words as he shifted up the bed to allow his father to sit down. "How's Max?"

He had asked after the third member of their family to everyone who had paused even for a moment at his bedside since he'd been admitted. He would lay money on being such a pain in the arse for the reason why the only person who was coming anywhere near him was his father.

"Dee checked him out and he's as ever," Herc replied, sliding a finger into his tie knot, loosening it. A sure sign he was here as Chuck's Dad as opposed to the Marshall. "Newt's sitting with him at the moment."

"One day you're going to tell me the story behind how Max took a shine to that nerd."

"One day," Herc agreed. "You want to talk me through what happened?" He said, clumsily changing the subject.

"If it helps any," he sighed, pulling the gown together at his back, he could feel a draft coursing around places where no draft was welcome. "Was off duty, so went on a supply run. The commissary is great and all but you can't get decent beer for love or money. Besides, we're running low on Max's favourite biscuits-"

"Did it ever occur to you to tell someone where you were going?" Herc asked. From someone else it would have sounded like a rebuke. From his father, it was more like a worried query, working out what had gone so wrong.

"Of course I did! I left a message for you with Sta- Marshall Pentecost; asked Raleigh if he'd like to come along," he explained, dropping his gaze. 

Herc's expression seemed to soften a little, something that he had only seen directed at Max when the bulldog was being especially playful. "It's okay to be scared, but the doctors have said that there is a cure-" he said, putting an arm gingerly around Chuck's shoulders; still unsure of his welcome.

"That's what's bothering me," Chuck growled, fighting against the urge to rest his head on his father's shoulder, knowing in his bones if that happened, it wouldn't end there.

Herc pulled back slightly from Chuck for moment, the frown from before returned and deepening this time around. "Son, what aren't you telling me?"

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the worry he could hear in his father's voice reflected in his expression. 

"The doctors haven't told you, have they?" he asked. "Haven’t told you all the gory details." Biting out the words, he knew it was the wrong thing to do. Not because 

Herc would demand answers (and woe betide anyone who tried to prevent him from getting those answers) but because the anger was wearing his defences against  
his condition down, making him weak.

"Why don't you tell me then?" Herc asked with a gentleness in his voice that Chuck had heard in those first moments after he'd woken up in a hospital bed in Hong Kong after Pitfall.

"The powder that the Kaiju Sisterhood witch threw over me and Max was used in their orgies. Any human inhaling it is has to fuck or they die," he explained tiredly, his gaze resting on the hand he had tightened into the bed covers.

"Well, that's a pain in the arse," Herc said, "metaphorically speaking!"

For the first time since the whole debacle began, he laughed. It wasn't a happy sound. "I wouldn't mind so much if I had some prior experience."

"I know."

Whatever reaction he had expected from his father at the revelation that he was still a virgin; this wasn't it.

"Wait," he began, "you knew that I..." he said, looking as confused as he sounded.

"How many times did we Drift together?" Herc asked rhetorically. "A memory that strong, good or bad would have flashed up." His expression turned dark, "that or whoever you took to bed would waste no opportunity to brag that they deflowered the youngest Jaeger pilot in history-"

"Deflowered? Dad!" he grinned, glad of both the diversion and the way his 'lateness' was being handled. In his heart of hearts, he felt joy that he was having such a long conversation with his father. "You been reading those trashy romance novels that 'Chelle would leave by her desk in LOCCENT again?"

The look he got for his cheek could have curdled milk. "No, picked it up from one of those ridiculous countdowns towards your 16th birthday that got mentioned in the press back home."

"Those were... slightly creepy," Chuck said, thoughts skittering away from remembering the darker stuff he'd seen and read about his love life. The less said about his dad's, the better. Some things were just too ghastly to contemplate.

"Was there a reason?" Herc asked, "I know I always told you to be careful-"

"True enough," he agreed, "even during the Mark I glory days, you kept your pants on,"

"Had my reasons," Herc replied, taciturn as ever, taking a keen interest in the curtain surrounding the bed. "Most of all, I was mourning your Mum, the other..."

"Was Marshall Pentecost," he stated, glad for the change in topic away from his 'condition', he felt the bed shift as his father turned towards him. "You think you're the only one who paid attention during our drifts?" His father shook his head. "He's a top bloke and you're happier than you have been in a long time.” He then tried a diversionary tactic. “How did the last round of treatment go?”

"Stacker ain't the only reason for that and you know it," Herc said, gruffly tightening his hand on Chuck's shoulder, pulling his son closer to him. “And stop trying to distract me. He’s fighting onwards as ever.” 

That small gesture pushed against Chuck's control. He could feel his skin, his emotions, his entire being screaming for the sensation of another body next to his. Years of training and the intellectual knowledge that the body next to him was his _father_ stopped him from doing something he'd forever regret.

"It's not like I'm gonna end blowing up a two k plus nuclear bomb, so you don't have to get mushy on me.-" Chuck muttered, looking away. Just because their relationship was more solid than it had been before, didn't make getting the message across any easier. "I mean, it doesn't have to be sex. The docs think I can... er self-medicate." For a moment, the hunger that was eating away at his control was subsumed by his embarrassment at having this conversation with his Dad. Shooting flares point blank at Category IVs was more preferable. "Just means I have to spend the next day or so jacking off-"

Herc huffed a small laugh, "So you'll be reverting back to being fifteen again."

"Fuck, no!" he exclaimed, leaning forward, covering his face with his hands as he did so. "Don't say things like that, dad!" Fifteen had been more of a minefield for him than it had been for most. Being the youngest Ranger to jockey was a factor; puppy-dog crushes on people he now called 'friend' was one of the many others.

"What's the problem?" Herc asked, "at least, this time you actually have the passwords to access the porn that's emphatically *not* on the Shed's mainframe."  
The face Chuck pulled expressed his distaste at such an idea more eloquently than words. "Most of it is Ranger porn and you know it, dad."

"I know that," Hansen senior said serenely. "I also know that there was quite a bit of it revolving around what the Beckett brothers had accessed using my login all those years ago."

Unfortunately for Chuck, the ground did not open up and swallow him whole, even though it was likely to have saved him a lot of grief in the long run. That was the thing about recuperating from being pulled from the depths of the ocean, mostly dead, he mused; it had given him time to think about a lot of things. One of the things that he'd thought about was the Opera House sized tangle of feelings regarding one Raleigh Beckett.

It didn't help matters when said subject spent time during his recuperation keeping him company and generally being a top bloke; with thick blond hair, a sweet smile, arms that Chuck couldn't decide whether he wanted to be enfolded in or held down by. As for the rest of it - well, his right hand had gotten quite a work out considering those details. A top bloke who was obviously, hopelessly, in love with Mako, who was pretty much his sister, despite their occasional (and now resolved) differences.

So yeah, he knew he was screwed. Still didn't stop him from whacking off in the shower as soon as he physically felt up to it.

That the hot water streaming over his shaking, wasted muscles was the most luxurious, sensual thing he had experienced in a very long time was neither here nor there. Nor was the fact that his dick, for the first time since before Pitfall, decided to show him that it was still alive too. Thinking about Raleigh and the way that his perma-stubble would feel against the sensitive skin of his thighs as he kissed a path up them might have played a role.

Anyhow, the resulting orgasm had torn every last scrap of strength out of his still-recovering body, leaving him stunned and shivery on the cold tile floor. So much so, that Herc had to physically pick him up, naked as a new-born, to carry him back to bed. Still, it had been worth it.

"I can explain-"

"Y'know, if you asked-"

“No, Old Man,”

‘If you’re sure…” Herc replied, giving him an unreadable look.

It had been a low blow, intended as a ploy to distract his father from that particular train of thought. Herc Hansen was a sharp sod, he’d have guessed by now and Chuck certainly didn’t need his father getting involved. His problem, he’d deal with it. What Raleigh didn’t know about, he didn’t get to pity him over; which suited him just fine, thank you. His right hand had done well enough in years gone by; no reason why it couldn’t get him through this too. And if not, well … surely someone could give him what he needed and still be discreet about it. He’d speak to the doctors; do his best to get a message to Tendo somehow. The Marshalls might be in charge, but Elvis ran the show; surely he’d be able to organise a workable solution.

“Okay then,” Herc gripped Chuck’s shoulder once more before easing himself off the bed. “Word hasn’t gotten out about the attack; so I’ll make your excuses, say you got yourself a bad case of food poisoning …”

“Never heard it called that before,” Chuck joked lightly, bracing himself for the goodbye. Even though he was sure he was going to be okay (one way or another), he didn’t want to let his father leave.

“I’m gonna pick up Max-” Herc said, fiddling with his tie before Chuck knocked his hands away.

“Let me do that,” he grumbled, straightening up his father’s uniform. It earned him a long suffering look, but right then it meant more to him than all the mushy words either of them could say. He was a doer, not a talker, just like his dad.

Herc fixed him with a patient look. “Don’t hesitate to shout if you need anything …”

“I’ll be fine…”

“… Regardless of a reason. I’ve got all the time and you’ll be doing me a favour,” Herc said, bringing his hands up to rest on Chuck’s shoulders. “Take your medicine like a good boy and I’ll see you soon.” Herc pulled his son towards him in a clumsy embrace. 

Chuck followed through, grateful for the hug and for everything that it represented. “Copy that,” he murmured just loud enough for his father to hear.

One way or another, he’d get through this. He’d survived worse and lived to tell the tale. This would be no different. It didn’t seem to him that he was ‘ill’ at all. He didn’t feel that much different. Being ill meant being stuck in a bed in Medbay, surrounded by beeping machines; rebuilding bridges with his father, Raleigh and Mako as they tried to make him feel less trapped by his slowly healing body after Pitfall. 

This was a whole lot different.

For a start, the docs simply said that they had wired up his quarters with all the diagnostics they’d need, (no, no cameras, they had assured him enough times to be wary); and some kind soul from Medbay had changed his sheet and mattress to something a bit more comfortable; which still made him think that they had hidden cameras somewhere. Well, he hoped that they would enjoy the show either way. He would have preferred his and his dad’s old suite back at the Shed, but that was still in pieces, so he would take what he was given. Besides, that didn’t have such nice, soft sheets as this one did.

Overall, he felt … okay. Bit warm but nothing that a few minutes under a cool shower couldn’t counteract.

It was as he was standing under the shower, scrubbing the powder out of his hair (again) that he felt its effect finally kick in. It was a relief in a way to feel his cock twitch into action; that someone wasn’t playing a cruel joke. That he was thinking about Mark V blue prints at the time was some cause for concern, but right then, he’d take it.

Being able to wrap his hand around his hard dick and revel in the pleasure of thrusting into the air as the hot water of the shower slicked his skin was an immeasurable delight to him. A low moan escaped his lips as he moved his thumb up his shaft to tease the head; there was no one to hear or to see, so he could be as loud as he pleased as he pushed one hand up against the slick shower wall to steady himself.

Yes, he knew that the Kaiju Sisterhood’s powder would wreak its worse before the night was through, but until it did, he was going to enjoy being alive.

* * *

Three hours after that first wank in the shower the powder was taking its toll on Chuck in more ways than one.

He’d thought that the medics were joking when they said that he’d be constantly aroused. If the state of his dick was anything to go by, still jutting out to attention, as red as the hair surrounding it, they weren’t. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried whacking off to get his damn anatomy to behave; of course he had. Beaten his own record for wanks in an hour by the way, (he was 15 and okay, he had watched that porno with the two blond brothers, who were supposed to be the Beckett Brothers-) and…

One thing he had forgotten from when he was fifteen, beating the bishop so much was murder on his wrists. Even when he used different hands each time, it still hurt like a bastard and yet it still felt good. Almost too good to be true.

Lying back on the cot in his own quarters, he pushed his shoulders into the mattress as he lazily stroked his cock with one hand, thinking, or at least, trying to. 

Admittedly, pleasuring himself was doing very little at all for his thought process, but not doing anything was unworkable as all 'higher' processes were overwhelmed to fulfil the needs of his straining dick.

This was simply the easiest and it had to be said, most pleasurable way of dealing with a bad situation. Or at least that's what he was telling himself and would tell anyone who asked, once this was all over.

He was doing his best to ward off the worst of the powder’s effects, but that was having an effect of its own. His elbows were sore and as for his wrists… the less said the better. He would not be above begging Medical for cold compresses for the next few days. Once he’d been given the all clear that is.  
Of course, there was a cure: to have sex with someone or … someones. The doctors had made that clear from the moment they had given him the diagnosis. He had taken the news with a poker face, not letting on that there was no one he could turn to in his time of need; let alone that he had no experience of what to do if there was someone. He’d seen enough movies and yes, porn of both the straight and not-so-straight varieties to have an understanding of the mechanics. It was just as any good Jaeger Ranger would tell you - there is a hell of a difference between theory and practice.

Lying on the bed, he put his hands over his eyes, sighing heavily. “Options, options, options,” he recited, pushing his brain out of the lust induced fug it was in and into working order. “What are my options?”

The first one was to give up, he thought to himself. To let the powder do its worst and kill him. But as soon as he thought that, his entire rational being recoiled as if shocked. If a 2,000 plus tonne nuclear bomb and a Cat V Kaiju couldn’t kill Chuck Hansen, no dumb psychotropic drug was going to do it.

The second was to carry on wanking. That thought made him chuckle like the fifteen year old he sometimes still felt like. “Keep Calm and Whack Off” he said out loud before dissolving into laughter. He was glad that there was no one else in the room to notice that his laughter had an hysterical quality to it.

Then there was option three. Have sex.  
Easier said than done. It was something he’d intended to get around to at some point but this felt wrong. The decision was being taken out of his hands and put in the hands of some psychotic who had taken umbrage at the fact that he’d played a part in destroying her ‘gods’ because they were trying to destroy the world that he and about eight billion other people shared.

Not only that, but … if it had been purely his decision, he would have preferred his first time to be with someone he wanted to be with; perhaps not forever, but someone he liked and who liked him back and was understanding enough to realise that he had stuff to learn.

To his surprise, Tendo had offered to help (nothing that happened in the Shatterdome escaped that man’s attention) which both surprised and pleased Chuck. Given the way that the offer had been made (no teasing, just honesty) he thought that Tendo was likely be understanding should he both take him up on his offer and decide to spill the beans on his lack of experience. Choi would gently tease him until the heat death of the Universe, but that was okay. He had an in with the folks in the commissary (foot and a half tall, weighed about 55 pounds and barked) and was not above committing the cardinal sin of messing with someone’s coffee.

Not only was Tendo good people but … he was easy on the eyes too. Had that whole 'Eleventh Doctor but built' thing going on with strong arms (empirical experience from hugging after being let out of Medical) and an arse that filled out his trousers very nicely, so it would be no hardship… if it wasn’t for the fact that he still had a crush the size of Uluru on Raleigh Beckett; which was, sadly, a misrepresentation. 

Said adolescent crush had transmuted into out and out love at some point during his rehabilitation. Possibly the point, where even at his lowest ebb, when the very idea of being able to take a shit unaided seemed to be a far-off dream, Raleigh was there, ferreting out silly dog videos (most of them featuring bulldogs) and obscure action movies to watch.

Not that he'd ever told anyone that he'd fallen in love with Beckett. His dad must have known about his crush; couldn't keep something like that out of the Drift. His exuberant cheering on of Gipsy Danger giving Leatherback hell in Hong Kong harbour would have tipped Hansen Snr off too. The love thing he kept to himself, not least because he was sure that Raleigh was straight. Beckett wouldn't look at him twice, if he knew, except with pity; which was the last thing that he wanted or needed.

So, as far as he could see it right now, he was truly fucked five ways to Sunday, metaphorically speaking, not literally. Or at least, not yet. Still, as his father would point out, when the reality hit that the Kaiju meant business, it took humanity a few months to bounce back with the Jaeger programme. In short - where there was a will, there was a way. He had the will to beat this powder back into the 'verse from where it had originated; but the way was proving to be a little bit more obscure than he would have liked.

Still, he mused as he sat up, swinging his legs off the cot, he wasn’t the quitting sort. A solution would appear; he just had to wait it out; while having a wank in the shower; while he waited for inspiration to knock on the door. 

Somebody must have been paying attention since he was under the pummelling water of a steaming shower when there was a knock on his door.

“The hell?” he muttered to himself as he grabbed the towel, wrapping it haphazardly around his waist, insomuch as his wayward dick would allow, before heading towards the door. Whoever it was, it couldn’t have been his father, the faint but present Drift hangover would have clued him in. That, along with the heavy scratch of dog paws against the door. It wasn’t any of the sawbones - they were keeping a distant, weather eye on him and they had promised that they would alert him in advance if they wished to physically examine him. He couldn’t think of anyone else. Only one way to find out then. 

“Who is it?” he bellowed, standing near enough to the door to hear the reply. 

“Chuck, it’s me, Raleigh. Open up dude.”

‘Shit,’ he thought, nervous terror flowing through him, ‘what the fuck do I do?’

“Kinda busy right now?” he yelled at the door. Willing, hoping that Raleigh would get the message; unlike his dick which was doing the ‘stand up and beg’ thing. Again. Damn thing was worse than Max when ‘sausages’ or ‘walkies’ were mentioned in his presence. For the sake of his sanity, he pushed all thoughts of ‘Master’s Voices’ and ‘begging’ out of his head. He was in deep enough as it was. 

“That’s okay; it will give me a chance to lay dinner out for you and me,” 

Chuck slapped a hand over his eyes. Just when the Universe couldn’t screw him over any further - it did. The guy he was hopelessly in love with was standing outside his quarters, most likely in that damn jumper and the BDUst that did nothing to hide his tall, muscular frame, bringing dinner with him. 

Whoever he had pissed off in either this life or a previous one, he thought desperately, he was truly sorry. Now if they could stop making his life a misery, he’d be eternally grateful. 

“It’s steak pie and fries,” Raleigh singsonged through the door. Bastard. That was one of his absolute favourite dishes. Striker’s team, back in Sydney had organised a ‘care’ package, solely for him, while he was recovering. He was sure that it was his Dad’s and ‘Chelle’s doing. One of the things it had contained was meat pies from the stall that made the best pies in all of Sydney. From the place that was just across the road from Sydney’s Shatterdome, The Shed. He’d deny until the day he died that he cried when he opened it but yeah... he’d asked the commissary to cook them for dinner for him and his dad (and Max). They’d eaten them sitting side by side on his hospital bed, chatting about Shatterdome gossip and watching the news. That had been another good day. 

There was a very distinct, very noticeable rumble from his stomach. Damn! Outvoted. “Alright, alright!” he grumbled as he pulled his towel a little tighter around him before opening the door. 

Before him, as Chuck had suspected, was Raleigh Beckett, Jaeger Ranger, Hero of Humanity and general all round good man. Looking for all the world like a PPDC recruitment poster, in his dress blues, carrying a thermal tray from the commissary in his hands and a concerned expression on his face directed solely at Chuck.  
Herc Hansen might not have been the best at raising a son, but he knew how to train an officer. Regardless of everything else, Chuck still remembered his manners. 

“Come in,” he said, stepping back to allow Raleigh to enter the room. “Let me take that,” reaching out to take the tray from his guest’s hands. As he did so, his hands brushed against Raleigh’s sparking a pulse of pleasure that made him gasp loudly.

“You okay there?” Raleigh asked, reaching out to touch him on the arm, letting his hand fall to his side as Chuck turned away from him. 

“Give me a minute,” Chuck whispered as he quickly placed the tray on a nearby table, hands shaking from the pleasure he had felt. It took him a moment to realise that what he had felt had been very different from before. It had felt good, there was no denying that, but instead of feeling that he needed something ‘more’, something stronger… he felt freer; that the powder’s hold had loosened a little because of the touch of another person’s hand against his skin. 

“Take all the time you need,” Raleigh said, watching Chuck intently. “That helped, didn’t it?” 

“What did?” Chuck asked, playing the clueless card. That accidental touch had certainly been something but whether it would be something that would help or hinder in the long run remained to be seen. He didn’t hold out much hope for it being helpful; not given his feelings for the other man. More a case of ‘we cured the patient by killing them.’

“Me touching you,” Raleigh pointed out, stepping closer to Chuck, close enough for him to see the other man’s blond stubble gracing his cheeks. Chuck tried to steer his thoughts away from the filthy fantasies he’d been entertaining over the last few hours about the man standing next to him. 

“I…” he began, looking down and away from Raleigh for a moment, feeling as if he was standing on the edge of ‘something’. An orgasm, a great height, he didn’t know quite what. His hands were kneading the rough cotton of the towel, making it ride up against his still very erect, very present hard on. “I … guess.”  
“C’mere,” Raleigh said, dragging Chuck into a full body hug, pressing him flush up against his body. “I’ve got you,” he said softly as he wrapped his wool covered arms around Chuck’s nearly naked body. Raleigh’s hands came to rest chastely on the towel that still wrapped Chuck’s waist. The very same one that that was fighting a losing battle against staying wrapped around him.

It didn’t really help that every time that Chuck shifted, the rasp of cotton against his overly sensitised dick made the pleasure of being held, even as innocently as he was in that moment, more powerful. Even putting his arms around his friend made every sinew of his being scream out for him to rut senselessly against Raleigh’s strong, firm body… and he didn’t. It wouldn’t have been right to use his friend so.

He took a step back, breaking the embrace. “Raleigh, why are you here?”

Raleigh let him go, his expression not settling on any one emotion, running through puzzled to understanding to resignation. “Because I want to help,” he said. 

“You’d do the same for me, if you could.”

Chuck tried to fix the towel up around his waist as elegantly as he could without giving Raleigh an eyeful. “Of course I would,” he replied honestly. He fixed his gaze down at his bare feet. “That is, if I had an idea as to what I should be doing.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Never slept with anyone. Or fucked them either. Unless my hand counts,” he stated baldly, eyes still downward, calmly noting that the skin on his legs was starting to goose-bump in the chill of the room. 

There. It was out in the open now. Someone else other than his old man knew and this time, Chuck knew that he wouldn’t get such an understanding reception. 

“O… kaaay.” The warm, gentle hand that landed on his shoulder startled Chuck. Looking up, there was surprise and something undefinable in Raleigh’s eyes. “We’ve all gotta start somewhere, y’know.” He lifted his hand off Chuck’s shoulder to run it through his own hair. 

“I mean, I…” Chuck faltered.

“If it helps, my first was someone who was a friend. Still is a friend,” Raleigh confided after a pause. “A damn good friend. The sort who’d be sitting next to you in jail …”

“Telling you that it had been a hell of a night,” Chuck finished with a small smile. 

Raleigh gave a small smile of reminiscence. “And it was … after we’d gotten untangled from his suspenders … it was.” 

“I think that might have lost something in translation,” Chuck muttered as Raleigh continued on regardless. 

“What I’m trying to say is … I know the circumstances could be a whole lot better and that you’d prefer possibly anyone but me …”

“Don’t sell yourself short there, Beckett.” 

“But I want to help and I promise to make it as good as I can for you,” Raleigh finished, fixing Chuck with a determined glance. 

Chuck closed his eyes, breathing out his frustrations as he did so. The need was gnawing away at his control, harder and hungrier than before. The touch he had  
shared with Raleigh had given him so much breathing space, but it would seem that wasn’t going to be enough. So sex with a gorgeous, unobtainable man it was then. 

Then there was this, this opportunity of a lifetime. To lose his virginity, at long last, to the man he’d had a hard on for (at least) since he hit puberty. It just seemed too good to be true. And it was. Raleigh was acting out of friendship and kindness; nothing more. Wanting more was a sure way to get hurt.

“Y’know, I always hoped that I’d lose my virginity to someone I loved,” Chuck murmured; eyes turned away from Raleigh’s concerned gaze. “I’ve never done it before because, who was there to turn to?” He confessed. “Towards the end, the only other Rangers I knew were either family or practically such.” Get the truth out there and all. “The Jaeger flys were far more interested in my Dad and well … it didn’t seem very romantic to lose my virginity to someone who’d try to sell their story to the gossip sites as soon as I’d come …” 

“Have a clue how that feels,” Raleigh replied, a faraway look in his eye. There was a story there, one that Chuck hoped Raleigh would, maybe, share with him one day.  
“Though, friendship is a kind of love so …” said Chuck, taking a deep, shaky breath before holding his hand out to Raleigh. He had a shot; not taking it would be the action of a fool. His old man had raised him to be many things but not that. “So if that offer still stands ….” 

Raleigh took the proffered hand with the sort of wide grin that made Chuck’s cock twitch happily (for a change) for the first time since this whole debacle began. There was a way out and he was taking it with both hands. “It does … but first …food, as you’re going to need your strength to take your medicine.” 

“Is that right Ray,” Chuck drawled, grinning back. Challenge well and truly accepted. 

* * *

In retrospect, when Chuck thought through what he had done with Raleigh to cure himself of the Kaiju Sisterhood’s powder, his friend had lied. He didn’t just make it as good as he could have done for Chuck, he made it better. 

It had been a bit awkward at first, sitting on the bed, eating steak pie and chips as if they were sat in the commissary with Mako and Max sitting on his feet, shooting the shit. Certainly not sat cross-legged in front of each other on a rumpled bed, about to have sex. Especially when the other person was still fully clothed and he was doing his best not to show off the goods too quickly despite the best efforts of the towel he was wearing. 

Then Raleigh, as he was taking Chuck’s empty plate from him, standing right next to the cot, had asked for a kiss. 

For a moment, he wondered about whether friends kissed friends like that, but then such thoughts were summarily evicted as he felt the gentle touch of Raleigh’s lips against his. 

At the time, he didn’t think about it, he raised his hands to card his fingers through Raleigh’s hair as to preserve the contact as it might be the only time he got to do that. 

“Only place I want to go is the bathroom for a shower,” Raleigh said quietly, his lips curling up in a smile. “I’m not backing out of this.” 

“Shower sounds good,” Chuck replied, distracted by the myriad images in his head of Raleigh naked in the shower; hot water caressing the strong shoulders and gorgeous ass that was currently hidden by the shapeless jumper and BDUs the other man was wearing. His dick, which had been mostly behaving to that point, made a forceful reappearance. 

Though Chuck did his damnedest to bite down on the discomfort he felt, something must have showed in his face as Raleigh’s expression turned resolute as he placed the empty plates on the tray he had brought with him, before starting to methodically undress. 

The jumper had gone over the chair, with the undershirt following shortly afterwards, before Chuck was able to drag his brain out of the lust-filled fug he was lost in, he considered if he should offer to help. And by ‘help’, he meant get his hands on Raleigh Beckett tout suit. His expression must have betrayed him (again) as Raleigh laughed before suggesting that Chuck should just lie back.

Since he had nothing better to do, he did just that; doing his best to enjoy the show while trying not to feel so self-conscious that his body still bore the marks of months of inaction and recovery, as well as ignoring the way that his treacherous dick was poking its purple head out from under the towel still draped over his waist and thighs. 

He remembered clearly that all self-conscious thoughts ran for the hills the minute Raleigh shucked his pants. The sight of long, long legs, that ass and that Raleigh was obviously just as interested in proceedings, made Chuck’s brain short circuit very pleasantly. Naked bar his shorts (which were quickly going to go the same way as the rest of his uniform as soon as possible if Chuck had a say in the matter) Raleigh approached the bed, a grin on his face.

“Like what you see?”

Chuck nodded vigorously as he reached out, grabbing Raleigh’s hand to guide the other man to lie next to him; only for self-doubt to take over.  
His expression must have betrayed those emotions as the next thing he felt was the gentle touch of Raleigh’s hand against his cheek. He looked up into big, blue, concerned eyes. 

“Wasn’t kidding about having never done this before,” he mumbled.

“So we’ll take it slow and easy,” Raleigh replied with a smile, not having moved his hand, his thumb gently brushing against Chuck’s cheekbone. “Talk you through everything and only do what feels comfortable to you. Got that Ranger?” 

He remembered nodding and snarking something about not saluting in bed; which then in turn, led to Raleigh pulling his towel away, staring down at Chuck’s dick, stating he had solid evidence to the contrary. 

Depending on the point of view, it either went downhill or wonderfully uphill from there on in as Raleigh wrapped his hand around Chuck’s cock, holding it in a grip that made his hips buck right off the bed, accompanied by a heartfelt moan as a wave of pure pleasure crashed through him. 

Thankfully, Raleigh took that as the invitation it was meant as to keep on doing the wonderful things he was doing; settling into a steady rhythm as he spoke of all the things he wanted to do with Chuck. Of using his hands to make him come; asking Chuck to touch him, to kiss him wherever he wished - something that Chuck attended to with enthusiasm. 

He vaguely remembered how clumsy he felt trying to stroke and kiss Raleigh’s skin as the other man pleasured him - he remembered laughing with Raleigh as their limbs bumped and tangled. 

And of course, crying out his release as he came, spurting over Raleigh’s hand. How good it felt and how different it felt to the numerous, previous orgasms he’d gone through fighting this condition. 

There had been kisses, he remembered that much as he gathered up the courage to ask Raleigh if he wouldn’t mind him pulling his shorts off so he could try doing the same for him. After all, he’d done it for himself a hundred thousand times and it didn’t look to be too hard to pull off (pun very much intended). Or at least that had been the intention if his quick refractory period (possibly the one good thing about this whole debacle) hadn’t kicked in. 

It did and Raleigh took advantage of it to lean over from his position at Chuck’s side to slide his lips over Chuck’s straining erection. There was nothing that Chuck could do other than lie back, beg and weave his fingers through Raleigh’s soft blond hair, keeping his thoughts on Kaiju shit, lest everything finished before starting. 

With hindsight, Chuck could now say, with the certainty of experience, that Raleigh Beckett going down on him was the single most incredible thing to ever happen to him. It was akin to his first kill, hearing his Dad tell him he loved him and hugging Max again after Pitfall combined … and then some. Especially as Raleigh sucked him down as he came with a howl that sounded very much like Max singing along to Kylie songs on the radio. Not that Raleigh seemed to mind as he kissed him, which was a lot kinkier than he’d reckoned it to be; he looked damn smug about it. 

The rest of it passed in a haze of mutual hand jobs and talking. 

After, as wonderful as it had been, Chuck didn’t say anything about what they had shared in bed for the rest of that night; but then, neither did Raleigh. 

Which might have explained why the other man had bolted as soon as he could when the medics dropped by the next morning. 

Chuck didn’t see him for around a month after that. At first, it was Chuck being called up with Stacker to New York to appear before the UN Oversight Committee on the Kaiju war to explain why they had felt it necessary to blow a hundred billion dollars of tech sky high. Stacker, frail as he was after the most recent round of cancer treatment, gave the Committee what for. 

Needless to say, the video of Stacker standing in front of the Committee, leaning on his stick, voice and intellect as strong as they had ever been, battling the Committee as if they were a Kaiju, went viral almost as fast as his ‘Cancelling the Apocalypse’ speech had. Finding out later that public opinion was on their side made that battle all the more sweeter. 

Not that Chuck had any sympathy for them. He’d been seated with Stacker in the audience when it had been Marshall Hansen’s turn to face the Committee. They deserved everything they got and more for making his dad relive the events of Pitfall all over again; specifically, his reasons for not countermanding the destruction of Striker. If Chuck lived to be a hundred and twenty, he never, ever wanted to see his father look that emotionally broken ever again. Twice was two times too many. 

It was as he stood outside the hearing room, watching Stacker and his dad embracing, whispering words of comfort and love, taking strength from each other, that he felt something stir deep within. It was a small something, just the feeling that he could have done with having Raleigh there to snark with. But Raleigh was half a world away in Hong Kong - keeping the home fires burning. So he pushed his shoulders back and pushed that feeling down so deep, it would never be found again and he got on with what he had to do. 

It was all well and good until he got back to Hong Kong to find that Raleigh had been called to appear before the Committee as well and was then off to Sydney of all places until further notice. That Mako was as pissed as hell about this was his second clue that there was something rotten in the state of the Shatterdome. 

As always, because his luck had never been that good - it came out over dinner; a very nice family dinner to celebrate the fact that Stacker had gotten his appetite back after the last round of treatment. There had been laughter, stories, good coffee and chocolate, as well as gentle reprimands about feeding Max under the table. 

It was a good evening. 

Having made sure that everyone was sitting comfortably, drinking coffee, he volunteered to deal with the washing up. It wasn’t necessary as the commissary wouldn’t begrudge them sending back their crockery unwashed, but it gave Stacker some time to thank Tendo and the Science Bros for all their support during this round.  
He was rattling around for the rubber gloves when he heard a footfall behind him. Mako. Without saying a word, she picked up the tea towel, waiting. 

For the first few dishes, neither spoke, letting the silence fill the small kitchen space of their parent’s shared suite. Chuck itched to ask her if she had heard anything from Raleigh recently. This was stupid, as he’d kept up a steady conversation through texts, emails and video messages with Raleigh after ‘That Night’. Although neither of them still mentioned what happened; Shatterdome gossip, Max’s latest shenanigans, Tendo/Mako/Science Bros say Hi - that was all mentioned; just not the time when they had shared world-rocking sex. 

He also read the reports that Raleigh submitted- usually pertaining to the rebuilding and refurbishing of ‘The Shed’, Sydney’s Shatterdome. At first he thought it was a particularly cruel form of torture on his father’s part - to remind him of what they once had. That was before he realised that the homesickness (it worked as a label as well as any other) he felt was mirrored by Herc. Which made it just that bit worse; they both missed Sydney - though for (seemingly) different reasons. 

“He misses you terribly,” Mako said, taking a dish from his soapy, rubbery hands. 

“He spoke to me yesterday.” 

“Not about what is important,” Mako accused. 

“He knows where to find me,” he winced. “Sorry.” The words had come out sharper than he had intended. While Raleigh had pretty much saved his life by putting out (as well as giving him wank material for the rest of his natural) he was in love with Mako; something he had no intention of messing with. Mako was his sister-in-arms, in the corp and when their dads finally got around to making it both legal and official, family as well. 

“No need to apologise to me,” she took another plate, her gaze focused on the plain white porcelain. “Talk to him. Tell him.” 

“What?!” He snapped louder than needed; especially if the sudden silence from the living area was anything to go by. 

Mako turned towards him, he could feel her stare boring into the side of his head as he gave the dishes still in the sink the most thorough cleaning of their over worked existences. 

Stacker called out in Japanese, loud enough for Chuck to hear clearly, but too quick for him to mentally translate. He certainly caught the word ‘Hansen’ in there. The ‘Oi!’ that followed verified that whatever was said didn’t put either him or his dad in a good light. 

“Hai Sensei, arigatō gozaimasu” (yes, thank you, Sensei!) Mako replied before turning back to Chuck. 

“You are of the opinion that Raleigh and I are lovers,” she began, picking up the next plate to be dried. “You are wrong. I love him the same was as I love you, as my brother and as my friend.”

He stopped what he was doing since his sight was too blurry to continue in that moment. “I…” he croaked, something was lodged his throat; possibly his heart. 

“I know,” Mako smiled. “I also know that Raleigh feels the same way about me and differently about you.” 

He heard the chink of crockery before feeling the weight of a hand on his back. He turned his head to look at the woman he loved standing next to him. 

“Do not make the same mistakes as others have made.” 

“The same mistake…?” He wondered aloud, as he handed another plate to her. In the background he could hear conversations start up again; Tendo chatting with  
Drs. Gottleib about little Yuri, Chuck’s god-daughter, who was playing on the floor with Max and Newt. His dad and Stacker cheerfully batted accusations regarding how long it took the other to realise that they loved one ano …

 

Oh. _Oh!_

“Oh bugger me,” Chuck ground out, putting his head into his soapy hands. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, same way it did those first few times he’d thought about his long road to recovery after Pitfall. He’d managed that … could he handle this? 

“Eureka!” someone called out, could have been Newt, could have been Tendo. 

“Doggie!” Yuri responded, hearing her name. Max barked. 

“Now do you understand?” It seemed like Mako was speaking from a great distance, yet she was standing right next to him. He had always wondered about the phrase ‘roaring in his ears’, now he knew what that felt like. He nodded, dragging up a smile from somewhere as he processed the information. 

Raleigh loved him. And he loved Raleigh. Now he just had to do something about it without completely fucking it up. No pressure. 

“Was going to tell you this in the morning but as you’re booked in on the first flight out of Chek Lap Kok…” Herc began as he walked into the small kitchen area, laden with coffee cups.

“You’re getting it now,” Stacker continued, calling out from where he sat. 

“We need another Ranger at The Shed,” Herc said. “Someone who can handle the media’s attention on what we’re doing and so on …”

Chuck gripped the side of the sink with a force that made the rubber stretch weirdly over his knuckles; his breathing also sounded weird to his own ears.  
“So we’ve assigned you; and Max too,” said Stacker.

Chuck nodded, afraid that if he said anything he would sound like the pre-pubescent lovesick teenager he felt like. He was going to the place he called home, to see the man he loved. 

“And don’t screw it up,” Mako said, leaning over to pull the last plate out of the sink. "Else you will answer to me."

Definitely no pressure at all. 

* * *

Returning to Sydney was a very different experience to leaving it, Chuck mused as he and Max waited to board the Jumphawk that would take them to ‘The Shed’.  
Even after saving the city from Mutavore, there were still many who were glad to see the back of Striker Eureka and her pilots. Then there were the goodbyes to the Shatterdome staff, the folks who had been their family for so long; knowing in his heart that it would, most likely, be the last time he’d see them. 

So far, although his return had been on the QT, he and Max had been treated like kings. Max even had his own seat, in the cabin; which was both a delight and an issue. Dad had always said that he had been a little terror during flights, but he must have been a little angel in comparison to Max. Even so, Max had charmed all the stewarding staff as well as every child on the flight; graciously allowing to be petted by all, so he was happy at least, even if his master wasn’t. 

Thinking about how the Shatterdome staff would react to two (out of three) Hansens returning was a positive thing. It stopped him from worrying about what to say to Raleigh when he saw him again. Unless the other man had gotten wind and had scarpered off to The Icebox. If he had, more fool him; Sydney was lovely this time of year. Not too hot (both he and his father always wore hats, covered everything up and sunscreen - the many perils of being ginger) and the surfing was good too. 

“YOU ASSHOLE, CHARLES HANSEN!” A woman’s voice bellowed from behind them. Chuck winced as he both turned around and dealt with Max’s enthusiastic tugging  
at his lead. “TRY TO SNEAK BACK INTO OZ WITHOUT EVEN TELLING ANYONE AT THE BLOODY SHED!”

“Hi ‘Chelle,” he began, curling in on himself, making himself a smaller target for the inevitable clip around the ear she was sure to dish out. “Good to see you too.”  
Michelle Jackman, J-Tech Chief LOCCENT Officer of Sydney Shatterdome and the closest being Chuck had to a mother figure, bore down the airport corridor in full fury. All five foot and change of her; dark green hair wisping out of its usual pony-tail and dark eyes, damp with tears as she collided with him, instantly wrapping her arms around him. 

“You bastard!” she swore, voice muffled by Chuck’s shoulder. “I am so bloody angry with you right now for what you did; blowing up our girl like that.” He sighed, wrapping his arms around her before nestling his head on her shoulder. That made three of them then. “Then … then you’re stupid enough to come back from the grave, nearly kill your poor father with worry and then send us some bloody Yank to oversee rebuilding The Shed!” she snuffled. He had known her long enough to know that her anger hid the love she’d never show, so he accepted the storm with good grace. “Asshole.” 

“Actually, you can blame dad for the bloody Yank.”

She looked up at him, pinning him in place with a hard look. “That’s not the story Raleigh tells,” she sniffed, taking a step back out of his embrace. “Or at least, that’s what I got out of him once we’d given him a proper Shed welcome.” Kneeling down, she was greeted with exuberant barks and licking. “Oh gods, we’ve missed you Max!”

Chuck closed his eyes. He remembered all too well what a ‘proper’ Shed welcome was like. He’d been on the receiving end of his own the day he’d made co-pilot of Striker with his dad. Spending three days in bed with alcohol poisoning was an experience he hoped never to repeat. 

The memory must have informed his expression as ‘Chelle sighed heavily, picking up Max’s lead. “Don’t worry; he’s still in one piece.”

“Apart from the new ones, everyone’s ripped into him for being a Yank?” he surmised following her out to the Jumphawk platform.

“You know us far too well!” said ‘Chelle, letting Max lead the way. “And if you’re wondering, I was the only one who heard anything that could be counted as being ‘classified’”, she stopped at the edge of the platform, waiting for the all-clear from the pilots. “He’s a good man, do you love him?” she asked, her voice just about discernable over the whirring rotor blades. 

Chuck stared out over the rebuilding Sydney skyline. He’d had two months plus since that glorious night, when quite a few of his fantasies came true, to consider that question. Even so, he was sure he had known the answer for a good while before then. 

“I would, if he’d have me.”

Chelle smiled widely at him before pushing up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I think you’ll be surprised, love.”

* * *

It started the moment he walked into the Shed, Max by his side. Low at first, difficult to discern over the whine and groan of heavy machinery, but then that drone was turned down, to be replaced by something … unexpected and wonderful.

“Maximus, Maximus, MAXIMUS, MAXIMUS!”

The call became louder and louder with every step that Chuck took deeper into his ‘home’ Shatterdome, the recipient of the cheering, keeping pace with him, a wide doggy grin on his features. 

“MAXIMUS, MAXIMUS, MAXIMUS!” 

As they proceeded into Scramble Alley, he looked up. There was Striker’s banner, flying high once again, in the spot where she used to stand. All of the balconies and cradles that surrounded the space filled with Shatterdome staff, most he knew, some he didn’t. All calling Max’s name; welcoming him, welcoming them …  
home. 

He wanted to say something, to thank everyone and he would have done if his vision hadn’t gone all water-blurred again. Not to mention if he could speak past the bloody large lump in his throat. Instead he just raised his hand in thanks, hoping that no one saw the tears streaking down his face. 

“Welcome to Sydney,” a familiar, friendly voice spoke by his ear. Turning he saw Raleigh standing there, open armed, reaching out to pull him into a welcoming hug. As he felt Raleigh's arms go around him, he noticed that this friend looked different from when he had last seen him, two months before. 

Taking a step back, Chuck looked at his friend. Whoever it was who kept nicking his dad’s razors had marked out Raleigh too if the goatee and stubble were anything to go by. And the longer hair was certainly not uniform. Not that he cared, dazedly thinking that Raleigh looked more beautiful now than he had lying in his arms that night, The one where it felt his life had begun anew; more so than waking up after Pitfall. 

He was glancing down, noting how well Raleigh was carrying off the vest covered in smuts and the overalls tied at the waist when he felt the soft touch of two fingers under his chin. He turned slightly to glare at ‘Chelle, she stuck her tongue out at him before laughing. He was not gawping like a lovesick fool. Admiring the view, yes, right alongside quite a few of the Shed’s staff, if he wasn’t mistaken. 

Not that Raleigh noticed, since he was crouched down, greeting Max with enthusiasm. 

“You do know that if this lot have been giving you grief, you can have a quiet word with Marshall Hansen?” he began before mentally berating himself for such a lame opening. 

“They’ve all been wonderful,” said Raleigh, standing back up again. “Besides, for the first week no one would say ‘boo’ to me as ‘Chelle had put the fear of the Kaiju into them.”

“And after that?” he asked, curious as to how the staff would take to a newcomer. Even when he had made Ranger, he was still treated like Herc’s ankle biter. 

“Just doin’ my job,” ’Chelle said, glancing away. “Talking of which, I’ll put the kettle on and break out the good cakes - welcome the prodigals home,” she said as she stepped away from them. 

“So how are you?” Raleigh asked brightly, when it was just the two of them standing uncomfortably in the middle of Scramble Alley. “Fully recovered I hope?”  
Chuck’s heart sank a little in his chest. It was good - he could pretend it meant nothing as well as the next guy. “Yeah,” he replied, lowering his gaze, so not to see the look of pity in Raleigh’s eyes. “Thanks again.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Raleigh had pulled a rag from out of a pocket to wipe the non-existent grease off his hands. “You know, when I said that I did what I did to help a friend, I lied,” he said, twisting the rag through his hands. 

“Oh?” Chuck replied. What else was there to say?

“Yeah. You might not want to hear this, but I’m going to say it anyhow,” Raleigh said quickly before plunging onwards. “I mean, you’re my friend and I would do it again in a heartbeat …” 

*So would I* Chuck thought to himself as he tried to keep up with Raleigh’s explanation. 

“The thing is ... I didn’t just help you out because you’re my friend. I did it because ... I felt it would be for the best if I used it as a chance to deal with the feelings I had for you …”

“Did it work?” he asked, idly wondering if Raleigh was actually reading his mind at this point. 

Raleigh shook his head. “Nope! Which was why I ran. I couldn’t see you every day and not think about what had happened between us; to want to do that every damn day … and night.”

“Wait, you mean you ...” he sputtered incredulously. 

“Love you?” Raleigh asked, turning away for a moment. “Yeah, yeah I think I do.” 

Chuck swallowed down his pride and his fear. He had the shot and he was gonna take it; Herc Hansen hadn’t raised an idiot. He reached out to take one of Raleigh’s hands in his. 

“Want to test out that hypothesis?” he asked, unsure as to what to say. “I mean … don’t you think I had my own reasons for agreeing?” he felt heat warm his cheeks. “Other than the whole losing my virginity thing!” he shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, as I said, I wanted my first time to be with someone special and ... it was. With someone very special.” 

The smile that Raleigh gave him when realisation dawned was something Chuck was going to treasure for a very long time. 

“You mean that?” Raleigh asked, gently squeezing Chuck’s fingers. 

He nodded silently, a grin breaking out over his face. “Just don’t make me say it, not until I’m sure.” 

The smile on Raleigh’s face turned ever so slightly predatory. “And is there anything I can do to help you make your mind up?” 

For the first time since the Kaiju Sisterhood acolyte had thrown the powder over him, Chuck felt truly happy. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” he said as he leant in for a kiss. 

Fin.


End file.
